A May December Romance
by Noeme
Summary: An unlikely friendship develops between a 24 year old teacher named Carla Donovan and her troubled 17 year old student Trevor Dean in the fall of 1941. The friendship soon turns to romance. Danger and heartbreak soon follow. *This is a period piece and alternate universe like the majority of my fics. Also future chapters may have a rating of M*
1. Chapter 1

**A May December Romance**

**I owe the idea for this story to three of my twitter buddies dipdipmyblueship, LoveeCarlaConnor, and TeamCarterxx who asked me to write a fic about a student teacher relationship between Corrie characters Trevor Dean and Carla Connor. In this situation the teacher is Carla and the student is Trevor. As with most of my stories this is an alternate universe as well as a period piece. Hope you all enjoy and as always thanks for reading.**

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He was married now, well into middle age with children of his own. And having been given a decent amount of time to look back on his past actions; Trevor Dean felt as he felt many people would; some form of guilt. His was of a small degree; small because he could not shake the effect of one particular action nor could he deny the profound impact _she_ had had on his life. She was his secret, a secret that had shaped him in so many ways, defined him, and had opened his mind to new ways of thinking and feeling. He had never spoken about her to anyone before at least not anyone in his life right now. Carla Donovan remained a secret hidden in his heart, a memory for his mind alone.

Trevor had been a boy of seventeen away at boarding school when the enigma known as Carla Donovan first came into his life. It was the autumn of 1941 when she first came to teach at his school and where upon he first laid eyes on her. She was the new teacher for literature at Saint Andrews Catholic School for Boys. Trevor remembers not having wanted to return to school that autumn of 41 his mother had just abandoned the family and his father was left heartbroken. Trevor had second thoughts about leaving the man alone, worried that he may harm himself. It was a stressful situation and everyone that was supposed to be his friend suddenly didn't have much time anymore to listen to his problems. He had no one to talk to and felt vulnerable and all alone; basically he was depressed and in a far off world. Trevor just felt ready to lash out at the world.

He can remember the sound her heels made as though it were yesterday. The unique pattern of her steps as they clanked down the corridor hall to approaching the classroom on that first day of term. If he could have been a seer, it he could have known the profound affect this woman would have on his life; that he would have on hers in turn...Trevor often wonders, would it have stopped him from behaving as he did? Probably not, that is why the guilt he felt was only a fraction only a small degree. Trevor had loved her, he had loved her so goddamn much and never would he apologize for something that had been so real and felt so right from that very first day.

_He kept his eyes on the blackboard zoned out and lost in thoughts about his father. It had just occurred to him, that now his mother left he probably wouldn't be getting the occasional care packages from home in the mail like the other boys would. It was just another thing to add to the list of why this term would be horrible and although he eyes the date on the board "September 1, 1941" he wished it were June already, or at least Christmas so he could get the hell out of here. The boys in his class are an rambunctious sort, throwing pieces of paper around and sitting on the desks having total disregard for all the school rules while they fill each other in on the summer holidays. The noise gave Trevor a headache he barely noticed as his good friends Peter Barlow and Steve MacDonald trying to talk to him. They were grumbling stuff about summer break but also trying to cheer Trevor up by badmouthing the class pretty boy Liam Connor, whom all three boys hated immensely. It worked because by time the headmaster walked into the classroom Trevor had been caught midway in a grin._

"_Ahem," says the voice of Headmaster Tony Gordon his dark cold brown eyes surveying the room with contempt._

_Immediately the class silences and Trevor watches as his friends Peter, Steven and all other standing boys rush to take their appropriate seats. The temperature of the room is ice cold and the tension could not be cut with a knife as everyone holds their breath waiting for the strict headmasters fury. Headmaster Gordon says nothing for a time and Trevor realizes they must be waiting on a second body, he hears the clacking of heels across the corridors, the sound intensifying as it comes closer and closer. The boy's heads sneak a glance at the door, watching anxiously with anticipation for who would be this years new victim of their tyranny. No one teacher ever survived their year. The the door handle turns and the door opens revealing a tall slender woman with jet black hair and olive skin._

_Trevor is nearly speechless and his jaw drops open taking her all in. It was her eyes that captivated him. He had often heard people say that eyes were like dark hooks for the soul. Trevor had never believed it until now. But they were so alluring, so unintentionally seductive that he felt she had hooked his soul with the innocent waver of her eyes over his person. From that moment he was truly infatuated with her._

"_So sorry to be so late Headmaster—" she begins to speak before the Headmaster Gordon raises his silencing her and indicating he has no patience. Her face looks wounded and hurt by so early a display of inequality and disrespect. She looks about to say something about this rudeness but thinks better of it before pursing her lips closed and taking her position next to headmaster and scanning her eyes straight ahead._

_It is a time before headmaster Gordon finally opens his mouth to speak. His brown eyes bulging at all his pupils in disdain and mistrust. He always wore an expression as though he had just tasted something bitter and unpleasant. _

_Addressing the class he says, "Your indiscretions however amusing they may have been last term resulted the termination of yet another literature teacher. Poor Mrs. Pennyworth endured quite a lot from you bunch! Before her it was Mr. Wakefield, before him Mr. Olivier. You boys are a nasty piece of work! I thought a woman's touch would soften you but it seems you all just like your little antics but make no mistake, this year is going to be different. It had better be different or else I may start making recommendations to the armed forces. Most of you are seventeen soon to be eighteen and therefore old enough to enlist You brats should be sent to the Western Front, fight some Nazis and then see who has the nerve to throw water balloons on Mrs. Pennyworth, feed her dogs laxatives, and flush her poor goldfish down the toilet! That's not even the half it either... the work ethic, you all lack general work ethic or any real motivation to turn yourselves into contributing members of society. Remind me why your parent's pay for your school again?"_

"_Well I don't know," comes the drawling and smug voice of Liam Connor in the background, "Maybe because we're rich and we're entitled to it. Because we are the future regardless of what you say."_

_Trevor glances back at the pretty boy know it all that always thought he was so sharp. Liam sat with his posse of fellow pretty boys brothers Jamie and Warren Baldwin. They sure seemed to think he was a laugh; in fact the majority of the class seemed to thrive off of looking for reasons to appease Liam. His other friend Dean and cousin Tom gave his approving pats on the back egging his behavior and making his face even smugger._

"_That's quite enough attitude out of you Mr. Connor. I don't suppose you'd like the stick? Or perhaps some lines? It is not exactly the best way to start a new school year, now is it?"_

_Liam doesn't say anything, his lips were in a permanent smirk which made his handsome features almost haughty. _

"_This year is going to be different boys. This year you will actually complete all your course work at the level I deem satisfactory. No more passing just because your parents throw money at this institution! I will not have any tongue or cheek," says Headmaster Gordon his voice is chilling to bone as he lets the message sink in, "Anyone caught disobeying curfew, sneaking off with girls, or keeping their rooms in the most untidy of manners will face risk of expulsion. There will be no second chances in light of previous incidences with past teachers. If you give this young lady here any trouble," he inclines his head to the beautiful teacher, "I will pack your bags myself! And church in the chapel every morning will from now on be mandatory. I think you boys need reminding of your christian virtues."_

"_I hope you don't expect us to wake up for that?!" says Peter Barlow indignantly, "Church is at 7 am!"_

"_Perhaps you rather wake up and do a couple of laps down near the school lake then Mr. Barlow," sneers Headmaster Gordon, "I mean perhaps it will be of better use of time for you...since you seem to indicate I am wasting your time. It will help you wake up maybe—"_

"_Sir—"_

"_Nope," says Headmaster Gordon cutting Peter off, "5 am first thing tomorrow the whole class shall wake up for a jog before mass. A week of it shall put you straight."_

"_Thanks a bunch Barlow," Liam heckles, "Maybe you ought to shut your mouth next time."_

"_MR. CONNOR! One more word out of you and I swear I will get a driver to send you back from whence you came! And since you used such foul language the class can thank you for a months worth of 5 am jogs!"_

_Before Liam, Peter or any of the boys could respond there was the sound of a loud tapping. Trevor looked over at the beautiful woman he had almost forgotten she was the room having been listening to the headmaster's torturous speeches and getting angry over the stupid jogs and required masses. She had tapped her shoe on the floor impatiently to get the headmasters attention. She looked rather annoyed at not having the opportunity to take control of her class much less introduce herself. The Headmaster seemed to realize this fact too as he quickly finished up with the last of his threats and proceeded to introduce the woman to the class. It was a brief introductory and more than obvious not one of her liking as she took the liberty to reintroduce herself once the headmaster shut his mouth. _

"_I can take it from here Headmaster Gordon. I'm perfectly capable, thank you very much."_

_Her voice was curt, short and sweet. Trevor admired her assertiveness and fiery nature as she stared the headmaster down until he got the clue that he wasn't wanted anymore and could leave the room. Trevor was trying not to laugh as Headmaster Gordon's eyes gave one last bulge leaving the class involuntarily. He had a feeling no one had ever told that man his opinion wasn't needed anymore, or perhaps never in so many few words. The class was on the verge of celebrating her as their hero before she stared at them all with more authority than the headmaster ever did. She was no dowdy Mrs. Pennyworth, the message was clear that they better not cross her_

"_First things first," she says strolling over to the black board elegantly and picking up a piece of chalk, "My name is Miss. Donovan," she began to spell out her name and the sound her delicate hands made against the chalk board was almost hypnotizing._

_Trevor was in a trance watching this beauty called Miss. Donovan, the whole class was. They had never had a teacher so young looking and so attractive._

"_Don't you mean 'Queen Bitch', " says Liam Connor taking advantage of the momentary silence._

_Trevor and Peter exchanged looks letting out a gasp at Liam's rudeness. Trevor felt his body almost ripping with the need to defend her; this woman he knew nothing about. It was strange but he felt so protective over her, it was clear he was developing a quick crush. But she seemed to hold her own very well, turning around slowly and staring the pretty boy up and down._

"_Oh Mr. Connor," she says disdainfully, "What would the day be without one of your signature snide remarks. To think what your brother will say, when he learns you have disrespected his fiancée on her first day of term. I think it will be the bar of soap again."_

_The whole class started whispering at this reveal. The hot attractive teacher was going to be the class jerks sister in law. It was shocking to say the least and Trevor watched in pride as the smug look slowly crept from Liam's face only to be replaced with fear and embarrassment at what his brother may do to him. It was Miss. Donovan now who was smirking as she turned back to the board and continued talking about her educational experience and credentials. _

_Trevor was captivated, hanging onto to her every word, appreciating the loveliness of her delicate voice and how it seemed to go up an octave whenever she exhausted it by straining herself and talking too long. He felt a bit crescent fallen, that she was engaged and even more so with the fact that it was apparently Liam's older brother that held her heart. Trevor only assumed Liam's brother must be an annoying older version of the smug and pompous pretty boy. If it was looks they were going on, Trevor definitely felt he was built more like a man and he could handle a whole lot of woman unlike that bloke who was apparently her future husband._

_His mind went through various thoughts thinking, why the hell did the good ones always have to be taken? He couldn't tell if she was a good girl per say, but she sure looked like she at least tasted good. And from the way her hips moved and her bum wiggled from side to side, Trevor knew she was no girl but all women. If this class were about memorizing every inch of her impeccable body he would pass with flying colors._

_"Let's get right into the lesson class! Books out please. I will learn names as I go around asking questions. So this means you better do your homework daily. Now the first lesson will be on Lord Byron. I hope you lot know who he is..."_

_She warmed up his body like a fireball and he couldn't help himself focusing on the way her dress clung to her skin, the pattern of it. He admired her green cardigan, fantasizing about how it felt brushed up against her olive skin. Never before in his life did he wish to be a piece of clothing like he did in that moment. Already he felt his thoughts taking him further and further away from reality and into a daydream; the very nature of them, so intense if not a violation of some sort as she turns to face the class again talking on and on about the days lesson. Trevor briefly glances at the other boys in his class already a bit afraid or apprehensive about whether to push her; they are all scribbling away retaining her knowledge and information. He felt it was impossible to concentrate, impossible not to look at her and not already imagine what she may look like with all her clothes off. He was very curious about her, very curious indeed. From that first day Trevor knew what he wanted…those breasts, thighs, the list went on and on, he wanted her all to himself. He felt no shame in these thoughts and he felt no guilt. Trevor knew what he desired and that his feelings were real…_

It would be a lie to say she wasn't in his thoughts anymore that he didn't think about her at least once a week still even to this day. But as time went on, and the years in which these events occurred began to seem a distant memory he had learned to move on; to start over from a broken heart and accept the circumstances in which she choose to detach herself from him his life. Trevor had thought it would be impossible to remove traces of Carla Donovan from his world, he thought he would never recover. But somehow he had; partially at least. After all the darkness he came out the tunnel and faced life like everyone else was at the time just trying to get over the war. His suffering seemed so minuscule compared to others. But something bothered Trevor sometimes; sometimes he wonder if she ever understood or would even bother acknowledge the profound affect she had had on his life. He was now forty six years old, had two beautiful children and a loving wife Michaela.

On the outside it looked like he was like everyone else, like he thought the same, had the same feelings. But Trevor knew everything was different for him, that there were some things he could never tell the people close to him now, whether it was out of fear of being judged or because it was all too painful; he knew that the main reason he never told anyone about Carla were for reasons of the heart. The heart, a place of many secrets, a place where time often seemed to stand still. He felt this… that the things which impact a person the most, the things that really get at the core of who they are as a human being are things, which one chooses to keep protected, the things which are kept close. He reasoned that it couldn't have meant so much if one chose so willingly to share it with the world, with every human soul they encountered.

He sighs looking at the clock in his kitchen where he now sits. His wife was at the groceries and his son and daughter out with friends. He was holding a letter, he had been holding it at afternoon contemplating what the hell to do. Trevor was in a predicament afraid to open it, afraid of what he will read, afraid that he may soon have no choice but to share his every precious secret not just with his family but also with every soul in the world.

Apparently his old teacher and lover Carla Donovan was dying and for some reason she thought it'd be a good idea after all these years of no contact, not so much as a letter or a phone call; she thought it a good idea to tell Trevor she has made him the executor of her last will and testament. And the answer was clear to him then; she did not understand the profound affect she had had on his life... how he would feel to receive this letter after twenty nine years of no contact just simply stating her situation and health as facts, like facts mean anything without some human feeling behind them. Trevor was rocked, rocked with the realization that he may very well lose her, this woman he had loved for so long. But what was she losing? What was her soul affected with, inflicted with? Was this an olive branch, a sorry? Was this the best acknowledgement she could muster? It wasn't enough.

He hears the sound of the front door opening and his wife calling throughout the house for help with the groceries. And Trevor realizes he had been too busy thinking about Carla he hadn't even considered what he was going to tell his wife.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just want to say a big thank you for all the reviews on the previous chapter. Enjoy the update and thank you for reading. This chapter is for you my Canuck buddy dipdipmyblueship :)**

He sat at the kitchen table trying his best to not let on to anyone that he had many things troubling his mind. Trevor didn't want his family to worry and he did not want to give any inclination as to his true feelings about the situation he had now come to find himself in. The trouble wasn't so much as to what he was going to say; that was very clear Trevor wanted to be honest and to always tell the truth; his dilemma more stemmed from how he was going to say the words to Michaela once the moment came. He had told her on their wedding day, that all he had were words, words that were truthful and from the heart. And never would he let words stand for so little or ever sell for so short a price. His words would always be the truth…all he had were words.

And yet here he was two weeks after the incident with the letter, just struggling to find the words to tell his wife about the burden so selfishly placed upon him. The truth was he was afraid, because he knew that what he had done all those years ago would be judge harshly regardless of the pure and genuine nature of the feelings he once held for her, his first love. It he were to reveal the truth it could well sell for so little and mean nothing at all. Michaela might very well resent him for telling the truth. It could be viewed as the greatest of betrayals, a deception, and inconvenience to his family's perfect life. So Trevor felt he could not risk it, he didn't want to lose everything he held so dear.

"Dad, hello daddy…"

Trevor snapped out his thoughts gazing back into the eyes of his seventeen-year daughter Emma who sat across from him at the dinner table smiling at him curiously, "Yes sweetheart?" Trevor says collecting himself.

"May you pass me the mash potatoes?"

"Oh," says Trevor stumbling and reaching for the dish, "Of course."

"Are you alright dad?" says his son sixteen-year old Andrew, "Only Emma has been calling for those for ages."

"I'm fine," says Trevor trying his best to appear upbeat, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Andrew says turning a bit red. He hated being put on the spot.

"Leave him alone Trevor," remarks Michaela jokingly, "Your father has just had a stressful few weeks at the office. Those construction men like to give him trouble."

"I don't want to talk about," Trevor mutters remembering the white lie he told his wife as an excuse for his off behavior, "I like to keep the home stress free," another lie because this home was anything but stress free.

"Well," says Michaela always the dedicated and adoring wife, "If you ask me, I'd say they're just being an ungrateful sort. They don't realize how lucky they are to have you as a boss." She grabbed Trevor's hand giving it an affectionate squeeze.

He felt that bit of guilt again. She was so wonderful to him and Trevor was lying to her about work and saying he was having problems. He felt like a horrible husband. But still he opened his mouth and further encouraged these false statements…so much for words.

"How was your kids days at school?" Michaela asks changing the subject and gingerly helping herself to seconds of roast, "Anything interesting happen?"

"Not really," Emma starts off before her little brother interrupts.

"Emma's going on a date!"

"Shut up Andrew!"

"Oh really?" says Trevor raising his eyebrow playfully and grinning at his blushing daughter, "And with whom, might I ask?"

"Who else?" says Andrew taking full advantage of his chance to tease his big sister.

But it is no joke to Michaela who quickly drops her fork and looks pointedly at her daughter, "Not Matthew again?" she whispers her tone one of great concern.

Trevor knew his wife did not like their daughters on again off again boyfriend. For one thing he was a bit older, having started his second year in university while Emma had just begun her last year of formal education. But Trevor felt he couldn't judge the age factor or maturity given his own history and he didn't think Matthew was as horrible as his wife made him out to be. He had been he was a bit off course but he will still young and had plenty of time to grow and learn and if anyone knew this, it would be Trevor. He knew what it was like to being through life aimlessly without a sense of direction, Michaela had been his anchor, his saving grace.

"So what if it is?" says Emma getting defensive all of the sudden, "So what if Matthew and I are going somewhere together?"

"Oh sweetheart," says Michaela gently, "You know how I feel about Matthew. He doesn't treat you right. He's not romantic, he has no manners, and he doesn't seem to be taking his education seriously. You're a beautiful and smart young lady; you deserve only the best, someone with ambition at least and the need to treat others with simple kindness."

"Ugh," says Emma losing patience as she had heard this conversation enough in the past, "Stop saying that mum! You don't know him like I do."

"I really don't think it's a good idea for you to see him anymore. He shouldn't even be around the school he should away the university at attending his own classes. That's a sure sign he isn't taking things seriously."

"Dad," says Emma glancing at her father as she did whenever she needed rescuing from her mothers well meaning lectures, "Make her see sense please?"

Trevor was always so helpless when it came to his little girl. She had a strong head on her shoulders and he knew he could trust her to make informed decisions. To him it was a plus that her boyfriend was going to university and from what he had seen the boy had always been polite enough. He didn't get his wife's squabbles about Matthew, "He's not that bad Michaela. He's going to university, that's more drive than half the boys his age."

"I just—I don't like it," says Michaela abruptly ignoring Trevor's input, "Please Emma don't go out with him. Actually I'm putting my foot down and forbidding it. That Matthew comes and goes as he pleases, you should be his first choice not a last resort."

"GAWD!" says Emma freaking out and rising from her chair, "I am his first choice mother! He just had to thinks over and besides you don't know anything about us so just leave it alone already."

"Can you sit back down young lady?" asks Michaela in her gentle and will meaning deposition.

"No! I've lost my appetite. I don't want to sit at this table any longer if you're just going to bash my boyfriend," Trevor was about to intervene but she stormed from the room stomping upstairs to her bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Soon afterwards his wife put her fork down and excused herself quickly retiring to the master bedroom quietly. Trevor felt bad about not backing her and he could tell she was hurt, but he decided to deal with one thing at a time so he got his son though the rest of dinner cleaned the kitchen and then slowly made his way to the bedroom. The door was closed so he gently knocked before entering to find his wife curled up on the bed already changed into her pajamas just staring at the wall. She was giving him the silent treatment like she often did when she was mad.

"Look Michaela," he starts off slowly undressing for bed, "I'm sorry—"

"You know Trev," she whispers cutting him off, "I wish just once, just once that you'd have my back with things when it comes to the kids."

"What do you mean?" he says peering over her and pulling back his side of the covers, "I do have your back."

"No you don't," she says glancing over her shoulder at him rather calm although she was furious, "And then I always look like the bad guy. It isn't fair. Why don't you just ever speak your mind? Why not say what you're truly feeling?"

"I do," he responds feeling pressured that she should be saying something like this now, "But they are so young, it's innocent at her age. I guarantee you Emma will outgrow him."

"You and both know that isn't true," says Michaela rising up and staring at Trevor as he finally sat down on the bed, "Emma likes the complicated stuff, she's like you."

Complicated didn't even begin to explain it when it came to the first woman he had ever loved. It was more like forbidden, something impossible that he wanted to chase until he got a taste and after he had a taste it consumed him. The depths of his feelings for Carla Donovan had driven him to madness.

Still he lies, "I don't think I was that bad at her age," he grinned at his wife reaching gently for her hand a silent plea for forgiveness she relented quickly clasping her fingers in his and smiled. She could never stay mad at Trevor for too long.

"Probably not," she sighs, "But you know what they say…impossible loves they can very well become an addiction."

He wonders, is this why he loves her? Because she says things that inspire all those old feelings again? His wife had a tendency to sound like Carla Donovan at times and it was rather uncanny...

"_That's disgusting," snarls Liam Connor from the back of the classroom as the teacher Carla Donovan lectures to the class. They were still on the topic of Lord Bryon, "He was in love with his sister?! That's absolutely sickening!"_

"_I agree," says Liam's cousin Thomas, "Imagine you being in love with our Michelle."_

"_Gross," says Liam. Trevor turned around annoyed with the pretty boy for making yet another scene. It seemed the commonplace thing to do, interrupting the lectures with his loud opinions; "I'll thank you not to put that image in my head Tom!"_

_Trevor caught his eye glaring him and letting Liam know he was an absolute prick for interrupting the lovely Miss Donovan. Trevor felt like whenever she spoke, the world required her attention. She had a lot to say and he felt every word that came from those luscious lips to be of the upmost importance. He wished nothing more than be apart of her world and to earn place in her existence. Never before had he paid so much attention to his studies in all his years of education, but Trevor wanted to impress her because he was sure she had the impression that they were all underachieving spoilt brats not deserving of this fine education._

"_Keep your eyes up front Mr. Dean" the refined octaves of her voice cut through the space of the classroom, it's tone as light as the air she could be singing to him so sweetly if he chose to believe as such. Quickly Trevor turned back to front blushing with embarrassment under Miss. Donovan's no nonsense gaze. He exchanges a quick grin with his friend Peter who was well aware of Trevor's crush on the teacher; Peter if not all the boys in the class shared the same feelings towards the exotic beauty as well. But Trevor felt they only cared about her beautiful exterior whereas he identified with the beauty that came from within. _

_Her eyes roam over Trevor settling on Liam and gazing at him with the last of her patience, "If you have something you'd like to express Mr. Connor, I suggest you raise your hand. Just because your brother is my fiancé doesn't mean you're getting any special treatment from me."_

_The class snickered and Trevor glanced back to see the smirk wiped right off of Liam's face to be replaced by a look of contempt and defiance. He crossed his arms over his chest enraged at the class siding with her and finding her little jibs humorous._

_Miss. Donovan looked pleased. Liam was no challenge for her, continuously she put that brat in his place and yet he always came back for more. But Trevor couldn't blame him really, the woman would inspired crazy feelings in any man that even if she treated one harshly they was certain they would keep coming back for more if only out of gratitude that she at least acknowledged them. It was like being under a spell, they were all at her mercy letting her spin her web, helpless to stop her alluring seduction._

"_Now," she says her green eyes beaming at Liam, "Do you have something you'd like to contribute? If so, I ask you kindly raise your hand."_

_Liam's hand shot up in the air almost immediately surprising even himself the amount of eagerness he was showing._

"_Yes Mr. Connor? You have a question to ask?"_

"_Was he really in love with his sister?"_

"_Was who, please clarify? As well show me respect."_

_Liam rolled his eyes, "Miss Donovan, was Lord Byron really in love with his sister?"_

"_Well if makes any difference she was his half sister," Miss. Donovan grins at him, "And yes it very likely that he was. In fact they most likely had a child together."_

_Next Peter was the one to raise his hand waiting like it was life or death until she would acknowledge him blurting out, "Why? That's sick, that's a sickness!"_

"_You'd have to ask him that, too bad he's dead Mr. Barlow."_

_The class laughed again, most especially Trevor he laughed at everything she said classifying it all as witty and endearing._

"_I'm sorry but that's just sick," repeats yet another student Ciaran, "If not immoral."_

"_Yes, yes we've established that it was sick and wrong. But it seemed to benefit his poetry greatly and from the viewpoint of someone who appreciates his work, I think he produced some off the most insightful of not touching pieces based on his sister. Very tortured and conflicted that it allowed for him to shape image of the Byronic hero which has been common place in literature ever since. Please write this down class."_

_They started to scribble away as she walked between the aisles lecturing them, imploring them to turn from one poem to the next and most of all not to judge the man too harshly. Trevor loved that about her, she could convince them of anything, he felt like he would do or say anything for Miss Donovan._

"_He wrote three poems about her, let's turn to the second one please…"_

_Trevor turned the pages of his book lost in thoughts of her... Miss. Donovan with her perfect hips and ample bottom walking about this room, he could never hope to ever banish any thoughts of her. It was torturous, he wanted peace yet at the same time he knew his feelings would never give him peace only misery and yet he sought to find happiness in this all. Everything in this world, every great story about love told him otherwise, but it made the pursuit all the more appealing. Foolishly he let himself think that she thought of him as he did her, and that as she read from the poem "Stanza's to Augusta II" it was the only way she could convey her feelings of equal longing for him. It was silly, but there was no value in any words spoken or written if one did not at least believe those words for themselves. He believed it was them against the world, them that were fighting to keep the most purist thing afloat despite all others objections. _

_"Yet I blame not the World, nor despise it,_

_Nor the war of the many with one;_

_If my Soul was not fitted to prize it,_

_'Twas folly not sooner to shun:_

_And if dearly that error hath cost me,_

_And more than I once could foresee,_

_I have found that, whatever it lost me,_

_It could not deprive me of __Thee…"_

_Her mouth parted so elegantly so seductively as she read to them her eyes gazing over the class. Trevor felt like everything made sense, this poem described exactly how he was feeling towards her, and how he had felt since the day they met. He just never found the right words before, but now he had a conceptualized feeling expressed in all these words, that described his longing perfectly. He would have her at all costs._

"_What does this mean class?" she said her eyes scanning the room looking for volunteers she settles on Trevor, her green eyes daring to acknowledge he even existed, "Mr. Dean? Would you care to try?"_

_He didn't know if he wanted to speak, but he hadn't any other choice. Trevor was nervous about speaking in front of the class because he didn't want to appear stupid nor did he want to make a joke out things like most of the boys in class did. Trevor wanted her to notice him, to consider him an equal viable for her attention and to hell with her fiancé. So he decided that if he said anything, he would speak to her directly, appeal to her from the soul with all he had, with his own words he make her understand how much he adored her. All he had were words and if he could make them sound half as beautiful and poetic as Lord Byron's then that would be a true feat; but he had no such talent so he'd try the best with what he had. He answered like she was the only person in the room._

"_Perhaps he thinks their relationship is doomed," Trevor says staring at her intensely. He is taking her all in adoring every crevice of her luscious figure. He had let her know that she belonged to him. The ancients used to think that the gateway to soul existed in the eyes, so Trevor held her eyes to his making it their primary form of communication. It would be about what he said as much as it was about what he didn't, "And so Lord Byron rallies against it; the way people think he should act versus what he truly feels deep within his heart. He's scared not because he desires her, but because the feelings are much more than desire; it is love. And loving someone like her is much worse then lust, lust could be forgiven by some but love cannot. Love is supposed to be pure and just by loving her he is impure," The class was silent and he continued on still holding her stare, "He knows what he has to lose, his everything, if he is to be with her. But at the same time he'll lose everything without her because there is no value in a life where they are not together. So Augusta is his life as much as she is his ending, they are doomed and they are unthinkable but in spite of himself he pursues her love, the impossible love which will destroy them; she is his addiction._

_There was a silence for a time and it appears that Miss. Donovan does not seem to know what to think of him. Perhaps she didn't think him to be a deep thinker, the whole class is gawking at Trevor in silence, Peter has a look which is a mixture between impressed admiration and utter confusion. Trevor thought it was a load of crap once the words came out; they were not at all how he imagined they would be, not at all eloquent but it they were the best he had to give, these were his words, his truth, the way he'd always feel about Carla Donovan... she was his impossible love._

"_Well," she says looking like she is about to cry. Her look is not one of romantic inclinations but that of a proud mother, "I can see all my hard work is finally getting somewhere with you boys. Good job Mr. Dean, very good interpretation " She walked over to the blackboard still flustered if not beaming proud as she picked up chalk and began to write, "Something I always admired about Lord Byron's work is not only the eloquence in which he expressed himself, but the truthfulness of his words. He didn't just write things for the sake of writing. He didn't write things unless they meant something to him, no matter how much they could harm him; and make no mistake his feelings did end up harming him to an extent. Still he always wrote the truth. I always think of this when Lord Byron comes to mind," They watched as she scribbled on the board._

_**Without words I have nothing and I have nothing without words**_

_She faced the class again staring intently at Trevor he felt his heart skipping a beat. Did she understand him? Was she beginning to grasp the extent and the true depths of his feelings? He felt she must have, because they thought on similar wave lengths. The connection was more than physical attraction, he felt attached to her intellectually as well._

"_I think this sums up his feelings towards Augusta perfectly. There was no point for him in pursuing anything if he couldn't be truthful in his pursuit; truthful in all the ways he decided to express himself. Of course it was wrong and they knew that, but because it was impossible it made their feelings all the more significant I suppose. Lord Byron I think realized that all we have are words class, words which open us up to new ways in which to communication. Words which expose us to different points of views and help us to discover that the possibilities in whatever we decide to pursue are endless. Words can be endless in the ways we chose to arrange them and express ourselves. So when we use them, we have to do so accordingly or else everything we say will stand for very little. Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Without words you have nothing…"_

_Trevor watched as she smiled at him again still proud of his speech and then turned to the board assigning them an essay based on the class discussion. 'Without words' would become the class motto that year in '41 and as he etched the words into his notebook he felt it had become theirs as well. Without words he would have nothing, be nothing if she did not acknowledge his existence. Trevor would die to hear her utter those three words 'I love you', without them he would feel helpless, aimless and lost. He would tell her those words over and over and every time he said it, or thought it would be the truth, the truest thing he had ever known. He'd never lie about anything to her..._

"Trevor," whispers Michaela in his ear. She had the look of concern plastered on her gentle features. He had zoned out talking to her again, "Trevor are you okay?"

"What?" Trevor says snapping out of his memories of his former teacher.

"Are you okay?"

He considered lying to her then, of assuring her everything that was okay. But he knew that he couldn't keep this secret from her forever in spite of everything he stood to lose, because Trevor could very well lose her at the same trying to conceal this secret past. Carla was dying, what would be the point of spewing words of deceit now? That was not the sort of man he was and he loved this, his wife woman dearly. That alone should warrant the fact that she deserved to know the truth, to know what was truly occupying his mind. She could become very angry and tell him she hates him, but it has to be done. Maybe Michaela would understand that the heart can be very secretive and that she could not have expected to know everything he had done before he met her, no one ever could know that much about another person realistically.

Slowly he opens his mouth ready for the moment of truth, "Michaela I have something to tell you…"

Words, all he had were words to give, about the truth, about that impossible love he found in Carla Donovan. And he hope to God that she would not judge him so harshly about the love he could not seem to shake. Even as he begins to tremble and tell her as best he can, his thoughts drift to Carla like an addiction just remembering as well as acknowledging that he is telling Michaela only half truths because he isn't telling her that in spite of everything he has been blessed with, he can't seem to banish any thoughts of his former teacher and longs for those old school days once more. It said a lot about who Trevor was as a person that he can only give the woman who has given him everything only half of himself. And yet in the same turn he can and is still willing to give his everything, the whole truth to the woman who gave him so little and left him with nothing.


End file.
